


Herbert West Gets Felt Up in the Morgue (And the Consequences Thereto)

by princefado



Category: Herbert West - Reanimator - H. P. Lovecraft, Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: But exercise caution., Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, I wouldn't call this "dead dove" because it's not the nastiest thing, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mildly implied mind control???? Hill has weird hypnosis powers., Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Harassment, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 10:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princefado/pseuds/princefado
Summary: Dr. Hill's frustration with West turns to something like obsession.





	Herbert West Gets Felt Up in the Morgue (And the Consequences Thereto)

**Author's Note:**

> I've warned in the tags, but to clarify before you read: Herbert is his usual unknowable self, and doesn't make how he feels about anything clear, he never says "yes", or "no", but then, Carl never asks either. As such, I've tagged it with non-con.

It starts innocuous, but Herbert is paranoid enough that even touches accidental can be conceived as threats. He's quite right in this case, as he can feel the hair on his neck stand on end as Dr. Hill spends a second too long leering at him. 

Their eyes meet, but Dr. Hill just smiles. Herbert feels himself shrinking back into his seat.

-

"Herbert… do you mind if I call you Herbert?" Hill says, hand hovering barely above Herbert's thigh. Herbert focuses intently on the sample beneath his microscope.

"Yes." 

-

"You're quite thin, Herbert." Clearly, Herbert’s previous feelings about his use of the name have been disregarded. Hill encloses his wrist with a single hand. Herbert feels his stomach lurch in something like anticipation. His tone drops. "You ought to take better care of yourself."

"That really doesn't seem to be your business, Dr. Hill.” Herbert does his best not to shrink under the prolonged eye contact. 

"Call me Carl. We're close, aren't we?"

"Only by proximity."

Herbert manages to begin to pull away, winces as the grip on his wrist tightens. He looks at Hill, eyes dangerous. Hill allows himself a moment to tower over him before he responds.

"Sorry," he says, smiling, and lets Herbert go. He watches for just longer than necessary as Herbert storms off down the hall. It's a treat to see him flustered. Hill sighs a little as he returns to his work.

-

It's past midnight in the morgue. Herbert feels his hands shake with exhaustion, but he continues his feverish scribblings. He likes it, down here. It's cool, and quiet, and there's no company like the silent calm of the dead. They don’t touch him unless he touches first.

He feels a hand on his shoulder.

"I thought you might be here," a voice says, behind him. He takes a moment to regain his breath.

"Good evening, Dr. Hill."

The hand slides to the base of his neck, squeezing with barely any pressure. He continues writing. 

"You're so tense, Herbert. And no wonder, after you’ve been working all night. You should get some rest, don't you think?"

Herbert nearly scoffs. 

"There's still work to be done," he says, instead. The hand slides down his back, presses between his shoulder blades, moves to rub at his hip, then his thigh. It’s cold, but large, and comforting in its way. “Not that you would know.”

"I do admire that about you, for all our disagreements. You are the most passionate student I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." There's breath on his neck now. His notes have trailed off, despite his best efforts. “It’s not every day that I find myself challenged in the classroom.”

"I would thank you, but given my experience here I don't think that's saying much." Laughter at his ear. Another hand slides under his arm. Cold fingers slide between the buttons of his shirt. There's something hard against his lower back. 

"Your bite is perhaps your most charming feature. You make it a most dangerous game."

"This isn't a game." Hand pulling at his belt, sliding beneath cloth. 

"Isn't it?"

His hands are rough and cold and crude but Herbert finds himself trembling anyway. His shoulders tense and he bites his lip. His only sound is shuddering breath. Hill sighs.

"_That's_ it. You're fierce around others but all you want is to be touched." Mouth sucking at his neck. Teeth. Hill grinds against him, trapping him against the slab. He holds onto the metal for support. The feeling makes his thighs tense around Hill’s hand. "You're dripping already."

"It's a biological reaction." Hill laughs again.

"It's a shame we aren't somewhere more private." His voice drops dangerously low. Herbert wishes it didn't make his eyes droop, his breath stutter. "I'd take my time. Break you down. Have you begging."

"I don't beg," he says, quietly. His face is warm. He tries to keep his hips from moving forward, fails. The cold feels so good on his skin.

"Don't you? Then what do you consider those longing stares you give Cain?" He hears the rustle of cloth. Hill takes his hand, leads it to the hard heat behind him. A shuddering breath. A soft groan. "He might, you know, if you asked nicely. I think you could get him to do anything you wanted if you went to your knees."

Hill lets go of his wrist, but Herbert keeps his hand still as he fucks into it, precum slicking his way. Hill replaces the hand down Herbert's pants, raises his slick one to Herbert's mouth.

"Be good for me," he says. Herbert swallows, opens his mouth. Hill laughs again. 

"I can't decide which is better." His thrusts grow more frantic. Herbert can feel a stain forming as Hill thrusts into his hand, cockhead hitting his lower back and wetting his shirt. "You with your pretty mouth all wet and open for me, or you, bent over my desk and sobbing."

Herbert can't answer over the pounding of his heart, of the blood rushing in his ears, of the fingers fucking into his mouth. 

“Did you know I think about that in class? Every time you undermine me, every time you open that filthy mouth, I’m thinking of bending you over in front of all of them and fucking you unconscious.” He slides out of Herbert’s hand, and then Herbert’s pants are being lowered--not enough to fall, just enough that Herbert can’t spread his legs around his belt. 

“Bring your thighs together.” Herbert does. “Good boy.”

Then Hill is fucking into his thighs, so hard that Herbert nearly falls over. He digs his nails into the metal slab. The friction is rough, there’s enough slick from both their arousals that he can hear a sticky slide with every thrust, but there’s not _enough_, not enough contact for Herbert who whines pitifully into the hand in his mouth. He wants Hill _off of him_, wants Hill to find something to use as lube and finally _put it in him_. He knows he won’t, doesn’t know what it would do to him if he did. 

Soon enough, Hill is grabbing his wrists in a single hand, forcing him down onto the slab, chest pressed up against the blessedly covered stomach of a corpse. He feels his shirt hiked up and then Hill is cursing and finishing on his skin. He wished it had lasted longer. He liked the feeling of Hill’s hands on his wrists. The feeling of cum drying on his skin makes him want to claw his skin off.

He hears a sigh and a rustle of fabric.

"Well. That was most enlightening, Herbert. We'll have to continue such a discussion in my office, at a later date." He smiles. Herbert ignores him, grinding desperately into his own hand, gasping quietly.

"Goodnight, Herbert West."

As Herbert finishes, he slumps to the ground, chest heaving. He stares at the door. Hill is already gone. 

He considers his offer.

**Author's Note:**

> When we watched the movie for the first time, my friends brought to my attention the lack of Herbert being properly towered over and menaced. I have thought of nothing else since, and snakes have begun to manifest in my home.
> 
> Also, I know trans Herbert is popular, so I left Herbert's body intentionally vague for your own imaginations.


End file.
